


A Demon and the Devil

by Fandomanon



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Demons, Dubious Consent, Fallen Angels, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4644378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandomanon/pseuds/Fandomanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete's the king of Hell. Patrick's a new demon, fresh out of heaven, and he's not so happy about the situation. Pete's not making it any easier for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Lexi why aren't you posting more for Welcome to Hell?"
> 
> Because I'm dumb and this got a hold of my brain. Welcome to Hell will be updated soon, but for now, have this tidbit.

Pete’s Satan, right? King of Hell, oversees all the minor demons, and the archdemons; everyone in hell is under his command.

 

That doesn’t mean he looks after them personally. He has other things to do, that don’t involve piles of paperwork and checking in on the baby demons to make sure they’re tempting the right people, or keeping on track with their soul count.

 

So when one of his archdemons drags forward a tiny bleach blond demon in a red suit, who’s flailing and trying to escape their hold, he’s pretty interested.

 

Pete leans forward, elbows on his knees as the kid (and he pretty much _is_  a kid to Pete; he’s small and his horns are just nubs, barely seen in his wild bedhead) gets dropped to his knees in front of the stairs to the throne, and Pete gives him a look over (pretty eyes, _very_  nice mouth--probably from the lust division, or maybe wrath, judging by how hard he was fighting before) before dismissing him, sitting back up and looking back at Gabe, who’s smirking.

 

“Who’s the new meat?” Pete asked carelessly, looking out of the corner of his eye to see the kid sit up, dusting himself off as he glared up at him. Yowch. If looks could kill Pete’d be dead; provided he wasn’t the king of Hell, that is. “Why’d you bring him to me?”

 

Gabe grinned up at Pete, and tousled the kid’s hair. “Because, he’s brand new, straight from Heaven. Knew you appreciated being hands on with cases like these.” He paused, allowing him to squirm away from him. “His name’s Patrick--and look, see the scar? It’s from where his halo bumped him when he fell from grace.”

 

Pete grinned slowly, which he could tell was unnerving to Patrick, and finally looked at him fully, eyes flicking over his body, as Patrick flushed slowly, glaring back at him.

 

Absolutely _precious_.

 

“Adorable. So, what exactly do you need from me? Just assign him a division, get him started. It’s simple, unless all the alcohol’s addled your brain.”

 

Gabe cheerfully flipped him off. “Fuck you, sir. I figured you’d want to assign him, help him learn the ropes; figuratively and literally. He _is_ \--or, well, _was_ an angel. Hey, angel--you ever suck a cock before?”

 

Patrick flushed even deeper, and glared, crossing his arms as he stared up at Gabe, and he refused to answer. Pete tsked disapprovingly.

 

“You’re not a very good angel, are you? Listen and answer your betters, or I’ll give you to the wrath demons. They’ve always loved a good spitroast.”

 

Gabe snickered, as Patrick faltered, and blinked, looking confused.

 

“Oh,” Pete breathed out, suddenly far more interested. “Well, aren’t you just a _treat_. I could just eat you up.”

 

“Don’t eat him, we just got him--besides, Andy would kill me if I let you ruin your diet like that. Now, I’ll ask again, you ever suck a cock, angel baby? I need to know, to assign you properly.”

 

“No. No, I’ve never sucked a cock. I’m an angel, for crying out loud.”

 

“Well ain’t that just beautiful. Well, with a mouth like that, you’ve gotta learn sometime. What did you do up in heaven?”

 

Patrick fidgeted, and sighed irritably. “I was one of the choir. My mouth is made for singing, not--lust.” He wrinkled his nose, and Pete suppressed the urge to coo. He was so _precious_. He was going to keep him forever at this rate.

 

“Why not both? Your God has a plan for all, right? At least, according to you. So, with a mouth like that, God probably knew you were gonna fall from grace, and he knew your _true_  purpose was putting that mouth to good use.”

 

“I’m not--” his voice cracked, and he glared at Pete when he snickered, before clearing his throat. “I’m not going to suck anyone’s cock, or--anything else like that. This was a mistake anyways. Just let me go, I’ll go back to heaven, we can pretend this never happened.”

 

Pete only laughed harder at that, waving his hand when Gabe stepped forward to see if he was okay. “Fuck, kid, you’re hilarious. Gabe, leave us alone, will you?”

 

Gabe nodded, and ruffled Patrick’s hair one last time, before he left the throne room, letting the door shut ominously behind him.

 

Patrick got off his knees, and moved into a more comfortable position instead, glaring up at Pete, who was still grinning, now twirling a collar around his finger.

 

“Well, well, _well_. It’s just you and me now, babe. You sure you weren’t a cherub up there? Because you’ve got the face of one.”

 

Patrick stood up to full height, and glared. “You--Don’t call me babe, and I’m _not_ a cherub. You’re a dick, you know that?”

 

Pete leaned back against his throne and laughed, hard. “Aw, is the wittle baby demon upset at me? That’s adorable. What’re you gonna do, pout at me with your pretty mouth?”

 

“I’m not a _demon_ , I’m an angel, and this has to be a mistake. I didn’t _do_  anything to deserve this.”

 

Pete was out of his throne and up in Patrick’s face in a flash. “You’re down here pretty boy, which means you _are_  a demon--you're already being corrupted, anyways. You ever say a bad word before coming down here?” He flicked one of Patrick’s horns, which nearly made his knees buckle, because they were too sensitive. Pete’s grip on his arm was the only thing keeping him upright.

  
“Let me guess. You were questioning your faith, weren’t you? Thinking that maybe God _isn’t_  infallible. And soon you couldn’t _stop_  thinking about it. Couldn’t stop wondering if maybe God could make mistakes, maybe he made a mistake about the humans--after all, humans were the ones who created _good_  music; better than the shit they have in heaven. You got jealous, didn’t you? You wanted to play the pretty human music, even if it was a sin. That’s why you’re down here, isn’t it?”

 

Patrick scowled up at him defiantly. “The music in heaven’s fine, not that you’d know.”

 

Pete grinned, looking darkly amused. “Of course I know. They haven’t changed the kind of music they play in the centuries since I flew the coop. All boring, bland shit, all about how God is great, and divine, and wonderful.”

 

Patrick glared up at him harder. “It’s none of your business, and you didn’t fly the coop; you were kicked from it.”

 

 

Pete flashed him a grin, all fangs, and Patrick couldn’t suppress his flinch. “You’re acting _very_ high and mighty for someone who just dropped to the bottom of the food chain. Tell me, what makes you think that back talking the _king of Hell_  was a good idea? You know what I could do to you?”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pete's literally Satan, y'all. That means he's not so nice in this story. Please keep that in mind while reading this.

Even still, Patrick glared, although there was the distinct tinge of fear in his scent, and a bit of it in his eyes. Pete inhaled deeply, and hauled him closer. In response, Patrick went limp for a moment, and, when Pete least expected it, brought his knee up and hit Pete, straight between the legs.

 

When Pete loosened his hold, Patrick scrambled back, and tried to make a run towards the doors. It was only when a _thing_  came up from the floors and grabbed his legs that he had to stop, fighting against whatever it was to try and escape.

 

Pete didn’t look very happy when he strode up to him, shoving Patrick back, until his back was against the wall and his legs were _still_  trapped, whatever it was moving with him.

 

Patrick swallowed hard, and leaned away from Pete’s teeth, and hands, further into the wall. “Let me _go_ , asshole.”

 

"Well now, that's not very angelic of you. Calling people names now? What’s next, are you going to try to fight me? Oh wait, you already tried that too. Face it, little demon, you’re in _my_  domain now. I’m in charge, and I can do whatever I want.”

 

Patrick straightened up, and glared at Pete, folding his arms in front of him, in a defensive gesture. “You’re not the boss of me, you’re just an ass--a _jerk_ , who has power. So what?”

 

Pete grabbed his chin, and tilted his head up, to study him. “I always _did_  like a fighter. They always make the best demons when they inevitably crumble. _Especially_  the angelic ones. What do you say babe, you want to take a walk on the wild side, or am I gonna have to drag you?”

 

He was still holding the collar, a black leather thing, and Patrick wrinkled his nose when he saw the gold buckle and tag, engraved with both his name (and he doesn’t remember telling Pete his full name, how did he--?) and Pete’s as well as his title. Patrick grimaced, and tried to shake out of Pete’s hold.

 

“No way, I don’t belong to you, and I’m not _going_  to. Fuck off.” He bit his lip, and immediately looked horrified at his language, which Pete thought was the _cutest_  thing.

 

“Well, we’ll just do this the hard way, won’t we? I’m taking you under my wing, seeing as you don’t _have_  any anymore--do you have scars, by the way? Burns from when you fell from grace, and all your feathers left you?--and don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it soon enough.”

  
One of the appendages wrapped around his leg slithered up and grabbed his face, tilting his neck so Pete had room to move, and he unbuckled the collar, wrapping it around his neck, while Patrick tried to fight him off. Once the collar was around his neck though, Pete snapped his fingers, and the buckle disappeared; Patrick couldn’t concentrate on that though, because he was abruptly released from the floor’s hold, and Pete was suddenly the only thing holding him up.


	3. Chapter 3

Patrick jerked, grabbing Pete’s arm and digging his little claws, just barely sharp enough, into him, but Pete just leaned in close, flashing his teeth as he dug his own, _much_  sharper claws into Patrick’s neck, drawing blood as Patrick gulped for air.

 

“Stop,” Patrick finally gasped out, closing his eyes. “Stoppit, I get it.” He let go of Pete’s arm, and after a few moments Pete released Patrick’s neck, letting him drop to the floor in a heap. Patrick touched his fingers to his neck softly, hissed when his fingers came back bloody, while Pete sucked his own fingers into his mouth, humming at the taste of Patrick’s blood.

 

“You’re so _sweet_ , and innocent. You definitely used to be an angel; let’s change that, shall we?” Pete snapped again, and Patrick yelped, eyes wide with horror as the collar tightened around his neck and seemed to grow, until Pete was holding a leash connected to it.

 

“You surprised that I can do that?” Pete tsked, shaking his head disappointedly. “ _Sweetheart_ , everything down here is under my control, and that _definitely_  includes you. If I want something to happen, it’ll happen, no matter what. There’s no use fighting it.”

 

Patrick didn’t answer him, so Pete sighed, and yanked on the collar, dragging Patrick to his feet and over to the throne. “Now, since you don’t want to do anything _fun_ , quite yet, I’m not going to make you.”

 

Patrick gave him a startled look, and Pete rolled his eyes, exasperated. “What? You think because I’m Satan I can’t be a nice guy? I’m offended, honestly. Now, you have two choices. You can sit at my feet or in my lap.”

 

“I’d really rather not sit anywhere, thanks all the same,” Patrick muttered, and Pete sighed at his answer, tugged on the leash again (nearly choking Patrick) as he took a seat, pulling Patrick into his lap.

 

“You comfy cozy? Because you’re gonna be here for a while.”

 

Patrick struggled, but gave up soon enough when he realized that Pete wasn’t going to let him go. Instead he got comfortable, trying to touch Pete as little as possible, which was hard, seeing as Pete was stroking his thighs, and anything else he could touch, the leash still wrapped tight around one hand.

 

“So,” Pete said after a few moments of tense silence, having already gotten bored. “You figured out how to manifest your tail yet?”

 

“My--what?”

 

“Tail. T-a-i-l spells tail. The thing that peeks through your pants and--hey, are you wearing panties? You should be wearing panties.”

  
Patrick didn’t reply, and instead elbowed Pete in the stomach, feeling deeply satisfied when Pete let out a strangled sounding groan of pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started school again and I have a job so I won't be posting this as frequently as before; rest assured that I am working on it, along with my other fics though.


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m taking that as a ‘no, oh king of hell, I’m not wearing panties,’ then. Or maybe a ‘I don’t know, why don’t you find out?’ I prefer the second one, all things told.”

 

Patrick immediately started squirming again. “I’m not wearing panties, shut the fuck up. And let me go, asshole, don’t even try me.”

 

Pete’s hands clamped on his thighs, stopping him immediately, and probably bruising him in the process. “Did I _say_  you were in charge here?” He asked calmly, the hand the leash was wrapped around pulling tighter, and making Patrick choke.

 

When Pete lightened up his hold, Patrick began gasping, leaning back against Pete’s chest as he tried to breathe.

 

“Now, I’m gonna ask again, since you didn’t answer me the first time. Did I fucking say you were in charge here?”

 

Patrick was still spluttering, and shook his head. “No,” he wheezed out, “no, you didn’t say I was in charge.”

 

“Uh _huh_. So who _is_  in charge here?”

 

“You’re in charge here,” Patrick said through gritted teeth, and Pete smiled, satisfied, before nuzzling his neck above the collar.

 

“Good boy. Looks like angels can be trained after all, can’t they. Now, are you gonna be good and listen to me from now on, or will I have to use a punishment based system to make you behave?”

 

Patrick tilted his head at Pete’s urging, and took a shaky breath, still breathing uneasily after the leash incident. He was frankly unused to breathing in the first place, which made the whole situation strange and uncomfortable.

 

“I’ll be good,” Patrick said after a few moments of silence, when Pete’s hands began roaming again. “Just, could you chill? You already said I’m not used to this, and I don’t really know what I’m doing down here in the first place.”

 

Pete laughed quietly into his ear, but he was nice enough to still his hands--one of them wrapped around Patrick’s waist, while the other was still rubbing his thigh. “Aw, I haven’t dealt with virgins in centuries, probably. You’re so cute, are you telling me to be gentle with you?”

 

Patrick frowned, and tried in vain to get Pete to move his hand down to a more appropriate position, thankful that when he _had_  fallen, at least he was wearing classy clothing, and was completely covered.

 

“If that’s what you took out of that sentence, I suppose so,” he said stiffly, when it became clear that Pete was expecting an answer.

 

“Well, unlucky for you I haven’t done gentle in years, but I suppose I can learn. I don’t wanna break you, after all; you’re the prettiest toy I’ve had in _ages_.”

  
“Oh _goodie_ ,” Patrick mumbled under his breath, flinching back when Pete laughed again in his ear.

 

Abruptly, Pete let him go, and shoved him out of his lap, before lounging back in his throne as Patrick struggled to straighten back up and look at him.

  
“First things first; get undressed. I wanna see what you’re wearing under the suit, pretty boy.”


	5. Chapter 5

Patrick made a face, but, because he didn’t want to be choked again, did as he was told, blush high on his cheeks as he fumbled to undo the button on his jacket, and after he slipped out of it he dawdled, fidgeting with it as he folded it carefully, and set it on the floor next to him.

 

Pete just raised an eyebrow, and waved his hand impatiently. “Hurry it up, we don’t have all day.” Pete paused, and grinned. “Actually, we _do_ \--in fact, we have all the time in the world, but I don’t wanna waste it while you take your time in a strip tease, especially one that isn’t sexy.”

 

Patrick made a sour face, and started unbuttoning his black shirt as well, and Pete started humming something that sounded distinctly like “I’m too Sexy.”

 

Patrick stopped, and outright glared at him. “Seriously? Could you at least try to take this seriously? Or like, shut the fuck up, or something? I don’t wanna be doing this, and I’m absolutely _not_  going to do it if you keep that up.”

 

Pete’s eyes narrowed, and a sickly sweet smile formed on his face as he shifted forward in his throne, “either you hurry it along, or I get something to rip those clothes off of you, and then you’ll have nothing to change back into but what _I_ decide you get to wear; and I’m thinking that cheer leading uniforms are _all_  the rage for angels nowadays, yeah?”

 

Patrick’s blush deepened, and he scowled, but returned to undoing his shirt’s buttons, letting it hang open while he undid his bowtie, careful not to touch the collar as he did, and once it was undone he dropped it onto his suit jacket, before he pulled his shirt off and began folding it, avoiding eye contact.

 

Pete coughed lightly, and drummed his fingers on the throne. “Hurry it along, angel, seriously. If you don’t get undressed in a minute, I’m going to call something in to do it for you,” Pete said in a sing song voice.

 

“I’m trying, okay?” Patrick snapped back. “It’s not my fault that I’m trying to be clean and conserve the only clothes I have, and it’s not my fault that I don’t know what I’m doing.”

 

He finally dropped his shirt, and undid his belt, sliding it out of the loops and dropping it, unzipping his pants and unbuttoning them to let them pool around his feet, kicking out of them as well as his shoes, until he was standing in front of Pete in only his undershirt and, disappointingly, a pair of boxers.

“They aren’t even patterned, that’s so _boring_ ,” Pete complained, and Patrick made a face at him.

 

“I didn’t choose to fall, and I didn’t choose what I was wearing when I got stuck here, so don’t complain, asshole.”

 

Pete sat back and crossed his legs with a huff. “Whatever. Just take the rest of it off, and get over here, will you?”

 

Patrick rolled his eyes and pulled off his undershirt, getting it tangled up in his horns as he yelped and tried to get his shirt off without ripping it, as Pete sat back and cackled, far more amused than he had any right to be, in Patrick’s opinion.

  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said before; Pete is not a good person in this fic, because he is the king of hell. Please keep this in mind while reading this fic.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter include dubious consent on Patrick's part, as well as threats by Pete

“Shut up, dickhead,” Patrick finally said when he had gotten free from the undershirt, and he crossed his arms, looking far from amused. Pete however, absolutely refused to listen to him, and kept laughing.

 

That was, until Patrick finally huffed and tugged his boxers down, and kicking them off, before he not so sneakily picked them up and threw them in Pete’s face. Pete sobered up quickly after that, sitting up and narrowing his eyes at Patrick, who  didn’t look amused either.

 

“Now why exactly did you do _that_?” He asked, voice soft. It still carried though, and Pete _was_  a bit impressed when Patrick didn’t even flinch.

 

“Because I didn’t appreciate you laughing at me. I did as you told me to, and you ignored it, so.”

 

“Aw, were you a bit of an overachiever in heaven? Didn’t like it when Daddy and the Boss ignored you?”

 

Patrick snorted. “The only thing I was good at was music, and for your information, _no_ , I wasn’t a--a suck up, or whatever you’re trying to say I am. I don’t need attention, I just don’t like being laughed at while I’m naked, thanks.”

 

“Aww, does the wittle angel feel insecure because the big bad devil was laughing at him?”

 

“You’re like, three inches taller than me or something, asshole--” He was cut off suddenly when the leash appeared back in Pete’s hand, and he yanked on it, dragging Patrick to his knees, making him yelp loudly.

 

“Do _not_  talk back to the King of Hell, kid. You have no idea how far you are over your head, angel. If I wanted I could smite you with a snap of my fingers--or I could make it so you couldn’t ever speak again--” he narrowed his eyes, tilting his head consideringly. “But that’s not a fitting enough punishment, I think. Maybe making you deaf would help. Can’t listen to the music that damned you in the first place. How’s that sound?”

 

Patrick tugged on the leash, trying to gain some of his breath back before he could finally reply. “Fine,” he said in between coughs. “Fine, I’ll be good. I’m sorry I hit you. Please don’t do that. Please.”

 

“Begging already, huh? What’re you gonna do for me to let you keep all that? I mean, in all rights you already belong to me. What’s in it for _me_?”

 

Patrick swallowed hard, and stared up at Pete, still lounging on his throne, leash held tight in his hand. “Whatever you want,” he croaked out. “Just--please. I need my hearing. Please don’t take that away from me.”

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna discontinue it, but because so many people are subscribed, and the person who commented, well. Here you go, here's a new chapter. Tell me if you want me to continue or not, I guess. It's not like I haven't wrote much worse.

 

Pete tugged on the leash, and dragged Patrick closer, until he was kneeling between his thighs, and then he loosened his hold, spreading his thighs farther and tangling the fingers of his free hand in Patrick’s bleach blond hair.

 

“Good angel--I knew you could be trained. Now be good and undo my pants, won’t you? I’m gonna teach you how to use your mouth for _fun_  things, that aren’t singing.”

 

Patrick took a shaky breath, and averted his eyes, moving to fumble open the button on Pete’s leather pants, and pull down the zipper. He was taking his time, because his hands were shaking, and Pete didn’t do anything to help, just kept tugging idly on Patrick’s hair.

 

“You want me to get angry again, or you want to hurry the fuck up, huh?” Pete asked, rubbing the base of Patrick’s horn, just to annoy him.

 

It definitely did _something_ , if Patrick’s mouth dropping open in a near silent moan had anything to do with it. Pete smirked, and did it again, until Patrick’s head dropped against his knee and his hands dropped away from Pete’s hips, digging his claws into Pete’s thighs.

 

He stopped rubbing, and yanked on Patrick’s hair. “Hey,” he said sharply. “None of that. You finish the job and get your mouth around my dick, or else you’ll be regretting more than just ruining my pants.”

 

Patrick took a shuddery breath before he continued, finally managing to undo his pants as Pete moved and finally helped him get them down, loosening his hold on the leash. “Good boy,” he said approvingly, and Patrick made a face, before he steeled himself, leaning in.

 

It was admittedly terrifying. For God’s sake, he was a _angel_  before this, and here he was, on his knees in front of Satan. He wish he hadn’t ever doubted God, but he was pulled out of his thoughts when Pete tugged on his hair yet again, pulling him closer, so his mouth was nearly touching his cock.

 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Pete groaned, tugging on Patrick’s hair impatiently. “You have a nice mouth, but it’d look much nicer if you hurried the fuck up and put my cock in your mouth.”

 

Patrick rolled his eyes, and felt that he had at least a bit of power in this situation, before he licked the tip of Pete’s cock, until Pete got impatient and stroked his horn again, making Patrick moan, only to move his hips up, and shove his cock into Patrick’s mouth, very nearly making him gag.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Patrick glared up at him with watery eyes, and Pete laughed, rocking his hips up to fuck Patrick’s mouth, his hand in Patrick’s hair, dangerously close to his horn, which made Patrick freeze, a bit unsettled.

 

It just. It felt _weird_ , honestly. Both the fact that he had horns in the first place, rather than a halo, and the fact that they were so _sensitive_. And the worst of it was that Pete knew that, and was relentless about using it against him, making him moan around Pete’s cock, nearly gagging again as it only made Pete force himself into Patrick’s mouth completely.

 

“Aw, angel, I know you haven’t done this before, but you could at least _try_  to act like you’re enjoying it. Some people would _kill_  for a chance like this.”

 

Patrick made a face at him, and dug his nails into Pete’s thighs, making him groan, satisfied, which only made Patrick feel even more unsettled. 

 

Pete smirked down at him. “You really think you can make me stop with _pain_? Really, Patty, have you forgotten that I’m Satan? Anything you try I’ll just enjoy, so you don’t have the upper hand here--quit acting like you do, and things will go a lot smoother. Unless you _want_  it rough?”

 

Patrick glared up at him, not moving, and in response Pete bucked up, digging his nails into the sensitive base of one of Patrick’s horns. Patrick jerked back, uncaring of how his hair was getting yanked as he moved away from Pete, his teeth nicking Pete’s cock as he pulled off to gag, tears streaming down his face.

 

Pete hissed and lashed forward to grab Patrick by the hair again, dragging him forward and leaning down from his throne to stare Patrick in the face. 

 

“Did I fucking _say_  you could do that, kid?” Pete asked through gritted teeth, and Patrick shivered, avoiding his eyes, which made Pete soften, seemingly.

 

He used his thumb to wipe away some of Patrick’s tears, and loosened his hold on Patrick’s hair, sighing a bit.

 

“Well? You gonna say anything to me about your behavior?”

 

Patrick licked his swollen lips, and stayed stubbornly silent, which only made Pete sigh, and pat his cheek condescendingly. “Right, that answers that.” 

 

And then, surprisingly, he smiled, studying Patrick’s face. “You know, if we met in different circumstances, maybe we could’ve been friends--hell, you’re stubborn _and_  defiant--I’m guessing you’re one of the old stock of angels? The new ones who fall are all spineless, bending over backwards in an attempt to not get hurt. But you? You’re _special_. So, because I like you, I’ll make a deal with you.”

 

Patrick started, surprised, and finally looked up at Pete, who still had that self satisfied expression on his face, that made Patrick desperately want to punch him. It didn’t help that he was still mostly dressed, with his dick out--not just his personality. 

 

“What,” Patrick croaked out, after a long moment of silence.

 

Pete grinned at him, and gently used the leash to tug Patrick closer, until he could drag him back into his lap, which Patrick was admittedly very uncomfortable with. 

  
“Good boy,” he said approvingly. “Now, here’s the deal for you; you be good, and do what I say for, say, a month, maybe more--and when I’m finally satisfied with your behavior, or I get bored, I’ll let you go. Turn you human, let you go up to the surface and live the regular, boring life you’ve always wanted. Do you agree to my terms?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas--here's some sin(tm)


	9. Chapter 9

Patrick swallowed hard, and bit his bottom lip, making Pete’s eyes darken slightly. But he didn’t speak, just allowed Patrick to think on it. It was partially to make him nervous, thinking of the pros and cons, but also so he could study him more closely--pretty eyes, even prettier mouth; yeah, there’s no way he’d get bored of this little morsel.

 

Patrick cleared his throat. “What happens if I don’t agree to your terms?”

 

Pete grinned, flashing his fangs at Patrick before he twined a strand of Patrick’s hair around his finger. “Simple; you can either keep fighting until I break you, or I send you down to the depths of hell, where you’ll never get a chance to see the surface. So, which do you choose?”

 

Patrick’s voice shook when he spoke, and he dropped his eyes so he was staring at his hands. “I--I accept your terms,” he said, resigned.

 

Pete cupped Patrick’s face, tilting his head up. “Aw,” he cooed at Patrick, faux sympathetically, “there’s no need to be upset. I gave you a good deal--better than anyone else would’ve gotten. So just sign on the dotted line, and we’ll begin.”

 

He dropped the leash, and conjured a shiny, ballpoint pen and a contact, flourishing them at Patrick, who took them carefully, eyes flicking up to stare Pete in the eyes, before he looked down at the contract again, seeming to skim the terms.

 

When he didn’t sign immediately, Pete’s grin turned into a pout. “What, you don’t believe me? I wouldn’t try to trick you, baby. My word’s as good as your hair is gold.”

 

Patrick rolled his eyes, a small smile betraying him for a moment before he schooled his features. “This isn’t my hair color. I guess the fall changed it, but I’m not a blond. And I’m just--I’m checking, okay? I’ve already agreed, but I should still be allowed to do that, right?”

 

Pete rolled his eyes, and leaned back to give Patrick more room, waving his hand imperiously, and nearly hitting Patrick in the head. “Fine, fine. Do as you please.”

 

Patrick’s eyes went back to the contract, and he began reading again, more carefully this time, and his mouth moved silently as he read--quite the pretty picture, at least in Pete’s opinion. And, look.

 

Just because he was Satan didn’t mean he didn’t have good taste, alright? He could be kind, could be nice, and could even be friendly, if he wanted.

 

And just because he said he’d let ‘Trick go after he was finished with him, didn’t mean that Patrick would _want_ to leave.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry that it took so long for me to update, but I've been super busy irl-- I'm a full time student, working 30+ hours a week at my job, and I only get one day off, which I use to do community service. I promise I won't keep you waiting this long again though!
> 
> Happy Easter or Sunday to those who don't celebrate it, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

Finally, with a resigned look, Patrick took the pen from Pete with shaking fingers, and signed his name, clumsy, and more than a little messy. It was legible though, and he did it of his own accord (at least, that’s what the contract said, so who cared if it was signed with a little less willingness?)

 

With that, Pete took the contract back from Patrick, and dissipated the pen, snapping his fingers to frame the contract, which Patrick watched him do with a mute sort of horror.

 

“Well,” Pete said, more than a bit cheerfully, “I’ll just hang this in your new room, so you remember your contract. Now shoo--Andy  will show you out.”

 

Patrick, still on his knees, stared up at Pete, the carefully constructed blank mask on his face breaking, to show confusion.

 

“I--what?”

 

“Did I stutter?” Pete asked, looking down at him. “I’m a very busy man, being the Devil himself, and no offense, but I’ve already wasted enough time with you. I’ll call on you when I want, but for now…”

 

Patrick stood, confused, and clumsily began gathering his clothes, as Pete, seemingly uninterested, began looking over another scroll, this one less fancy, and more utilitarian. When he had pulled his pants back up, and was going to button up his shirt, when someone appeared at his side, gripping his elbow gently.

 

Since he wasn’t expecting it, though, Patrick jumped a bit, and went to shove back against them, making Pete muffle a laugh.

 

**So he _was_  watching**, Patrick thought vindictively. Still though, the other person cleared their throat, and Patrick took his eyes off Pete, moving over to the other person, who, honestly? Didn’t seem as though he belonged in the deepest chambers of Hell.

 

For one, he was dressed simply, in jeans and a--Star Wars--shirt? And his hair was messy, and _big_ , disguising his horns at first glance.

 

Patrick stared at him, and the demon grinned at him lazily, revealing a set of seemingly normal, human teeth.

 

“Sup, dude. I’m here to take you to your new room? Looks like we’re rooming together.”

 

Pete glanced up, affecting a disinterested persona, and he nodded at the demon. “Oh, is that where I sent the contract? Well, play nice--don’t let him play with strangers, will you Joe?”

 

Joe, as it was apparently his name, saluted with his free hand. “Got it, boss. I won’t even let him cross the street without being there to hold his hand. Now if we can take our leave?”

 

The only form of dismissal they got was when Pete looked back down at the paper, and Joe shrugged, leading Patrick away with a light touch on his elbow, taking care to ensure Patrick didn’t look back.

 

When the doors clanged shut behind them, it was only then that Pete looked up, narrowing his eyes at the corner of the throne room.

 

“Gabe, you got all that, didn’t you? Keep an eye on him, will you? I want his every move monitored, and if he steps even one foot out of line, I want him dragged here, no matter who I’m with, got it?”

 

Gabe chuckled, and melted out of the shadows. “Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem at all, boss. Trust me, if he even thinks about doing anything, I’ll drag him here by his nubby little horns--besides, I think Will is gonna have him run ragged--unless you’re planning on sending him somewhere else?”

 

Pete hummed, a little thoughtful, and shook his head. “I don’t think so. If anyone’s gonna ruin the little ex-angel, it’s gonna be me. Tell Will he can have the next one, and send Patrick to, hmm--let’s try wrath. He’s got more than enough anger at everything for that to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for not updating sooner. I'm hoping I can update more now that I'm only taking three summer courses rather than a full work load, and seriously, if you don't get a new chapter in less than a month, hit me, or something.


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